


Haemoglobin

by ElisAttack



Category: Stoker (2013)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 12:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisAttack/pseuds/ElisAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She wonders if New York is enough.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Haemoglobin

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Гемоглобин](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3621237) by [Walter_Kovacs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walter_Kovacs/pseuds/Walter_Kovacs)



She wonders if New York is enough.

She keeps the shears, and doesn't wash them. They rust and oxidize, like the blood still slathered on the blades, and she asks herself again, _what am I made of_?

The blood, and the DNA. The sickness of the mind Uncle Charlie possessed so lovingly. He never denied that part of himself, so why should she?

Then she thinks of where he is now. Buried in her old garden, under the smallest globe ornament of the set. Funny how things work out.

It did not reflect what he meant to her.

But he was stupid. He ended the existence of the person she..., and that was unforgivable.

Her father taught her survival, Uncle Charlie taught how to tell disintegrating lies. And with those lies they will find her. They will burn her.

But she does not care.

The sickness does not care.

It keeps the shears to lick the blood off. A taste, a desire.

A pair of shoes made for a woman, with tongues of fire and brimstone, that click clack with the sound of a mad piano duet.

The sickness, it became an integral part of her the moment she stepped into the shoes.

Or maybe it was with her all along floating amidst the red blood cells, the white, the iron, the oxygen, the carbon, the nitrogen, the...

She sighs heavily, New York will never be enough...

It rests amongst the haemoglobin.

**Author's Note:**

> While I was buying some oil paint I stumbled across this colour, Haemoglobin, by Kama Pigments, the name fascinated me so much, I just had to buy it, (even though it was totally over my price range) to my actual surprise, it looked like blood, not the fake stuff, but the actual goop that just feels the need to poke out and say hello everytime you get a papercut. So while I was painting with it, it reminded me so much of Stoker, and India, I just had to...


End file.
